Leena Kapor Part 1 – The Postcard The postcard arrived on a wet Thursday morning, slipped through the letterbox of her narrow London flat like any other piece of mail, but it felt heavier than its paper weight suggested. Meera bent to pick it up, brushing raindrops from its surface. The picture side showed a winter street lined with red lanterns, snow settling like ash on tiled rooftops, a kanji script curling down the right edge that she couldn’t read. She turned it over, pulse tightening, because on the back was handwriting she hadn’t seen in fifteen years. Her father’s.…
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Sabyasachi Pal I The late afternoon sun dipped into the smoky Kolkata skyline as Ananya Roy’s cab crawled through the labyrinth of traffic, the air thick with the blaring of horns, the chatter of street vendors, and the aroma of frying samosas. It had been nearly fifteen years since she had last visited the city of her birth, and yet as she peered out the window, the familiar chaos carried a pulse that tugged somewhere deep inside her chest. The sari-clad women balancing baskets of flowers, the tram bells clanging faintly in the distance, the lingering scent of incense at…
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Isla Verma The Letter in the Book It was a Sunday shaped like rain. The city hadn’t yet decided if it wanted to pour or pretend, and Anaya stood under the torn yellow canopy of a second-hand bookstall near Churchgate, letting her fingers glide across spines of the forgotten. The old man who ran the stall smoked a cigarette with one hand and flipped through pages with the other, not even looking up as she pulled a faded copy of Wuthering Heights from the stack. The pages were frayed at the edges, browned like toast. Anaya loved that. She liked…